


Misery

by MorganaNK



Category: Inspector Lynley - All Media Types, Inspector Lynley Mysteries (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 08:39:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14891262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganaNK/pseuds/MorganaNK
Summary: What if you are too scared to feel anything else?Set after 'Limbo'





	Misery

**Author's Note:**

> Property of Elizabeth George and the BBC, no copyright infringement intended
> 
> _On Tuesday I was lucky enough to see Nat in a More2Screen live theatre broadcast of 'An Ideal Husband'... outstanding doesn't even begin to come close_

I live my life entrenched in misery. I pretend to rail against it, but in truth I am scared to experience anything else. Misery and I are old acquaintances; knowing each other intimately since the day I saw a man embrace my mother in that upstairs window of Howenstow and rushed to see if it was my ailing father, only to find her in flagrante with the good doctor Trenarrow. 

Things have been on a downward spiral ever since.

I thought about suicide as a way to escape my emotional torment, a drunken attempt that was thwarted by John Contell. Look at how I repaid him for that particular selfless good deed.

I hit rock bottom again when Deborah left me and married my friend Simon. With hindsight I’m not surprised she chose him; who would willingly tie themselves to the living personification of Eeyore?

After that spectacular failure I became the lothario of the Met; never spending too long with one woman in case they looked at me closely. I’d wine them, dine them, bed them, and then kiss them farewell. The king of one-night stands; my looks, title and money opened so much more than doors!

I projected the illusion that my life was great, revelled in my reputation… and self medicated with whiskey. I drank enough to take the edge off the emptiness I felt. Work, whiskey, and a string of identikit women with long legs, pert breasts and pretty faces kept me functioning as a reasonable facsimile of a human being.

And then I met Barbara Havers, and I realised that what I had wasn’t enough.

I felt something for her from the start, but fought against it when she ran from my attempt at a kiss. I convinced myself that I was wrong, and instead turned my attention to my old friend Helen. I became fixated on making her love me, and even now I’m not sure whether it was because I wanted us to be in love or wanted to make Barbara jealous. Either way, it turned out to be a huge mistake.

Helen’s gone now, shot down in cold blood by a soul as equally damaged as mine. We were making plans for a future together. I want to believe that she was genuinely happy when we resumed our relationship, but I’ll never be sure. Losing her sent me into a freefall, and so I reverted to type, drinking too much and then sleeping with my friend’s daughter who was subsequently murdered.

Everything I touch turns to shit, and that is why I need to keep my romantic feelings for Barbara secret. Through the years, despite the way I have treated her, the times I have taken my temper, my sullenness and my frustration out on her, she has proved to be my most loyal friend. 

Barbara is the only lightness in my miserable existence. I can walk away from the alcohol and the meaningless sex if I still have her as my friend. She is the one person I can’t live without.


End file.
